09-12-2024, 04:54 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-12-2024, 04:57 PM by Betacucky. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
Chapter 3
As Anand walked away, I trailed behind him hesitantly, my legs heavy, my vision blurred with tears. At the doorway, Manavi stood quietly, her expression calm, almost indifferent. My mind screamed at me to act, to pull Ananya away, but my body refused, weighted by fear and humiliation.
Without hesitation, Anand reached for Ananya’s hand. Her face was frozen in fear, her lips parted as if to speak but no words came. She let him pull her along like a puppet, her silence louder than any scream.
Anand turned and gave me a cold, piercing stare before disappearing into his bedroom with her. Ananya looked back at me, her eyes locked onto mine, desperate and pleading, and it hit me like a blow to the chest. I should have done something, should have said something, but what could I even do? Every time I tried to imagine stepping in, Anand’s cold, mocking stare froze me in place. Would he hurt her if I resisted? Or would he just laugh as he brushed me aside like I was nothing? Maybe I was nothing—not to him, not at this moment. The thought churned in my gut like poison, leaving me to stand there, useless and ashamed, while Ananya silently begged for a hero I couldn’t be..
Manavi followed closely, her steps slow and deliberate, as though savoring the weight of what was happening. She paused briefly and walked towards me, leaning in close enough for her perfume to linger in the air between us. "You don’t want to miss this," she whispered, her voice soft but dripping with mockery, before continuing into the bedroom.
I hurriedly pulled my boxers back on, though it felt pointless. My legs moved on their own as I ended up just outside Anand’s bedroom door, unable to stay away. Anand stood at the entrance, his stance commanding, like a gatekeeper to what came next. Inside, Ananya sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped, her whole body radiating helplessness. Manavi lingered nearby, leaning casually against the wall, her presence a quiet but pointed reminder of how twisted this situation had become.
As I stood frozen outside the door, my mind raced with questions I couldn’t answer. What had Manavi said to Ananya during all this? Had she tried to comfort her, or was she just as consumed by Anand’s dominance as the rest of us? The possibilities clawed at me, each one worse than the last, and the thought of Manavi leading Ananya deeper into this nightmare left a bitter taste in my mouth. Fear, confusion, and now betrayal churned in my gut, tying me up in knots.
The tension in the room was suffocating, the air so heavy it felt like it could crush me. Every unspoken fear hung there, filling the silence with an unbearable weight. I stood frozen, unable to move, trapped by my own emotions. My chest tightened as I watched the door slowly swing shut, shutting us in—sealing me inside this nightmare with no way to escape.
His smirk oozed confidence, like he already knew how this twisted play would unfold. 'So, you’ve only ever been with your loser husband?' he sneered at Ananya, his words sharp and mocking. My stomach twisted as his words cut deeper than I expected, but even the thought of fighting back felt pathetic—he was right, and I hated him for it."You saw how I made him squeal like a little bitch. What do you think of that?"
The words stung like a whip. My chest tightened as shame coursed through me, mingling with a simmering anger I couldn’t seem to act on. I wanted to fight back, to tell him to shut his filthy mouth, but what would that achieve? He had already stripped me of every shred of dignity, and deep down, I hated myself for letting him. But was it better to stay silent, to avoid making things worse for Ananya? Or was I just using that as an excuse to mask my own cowardice? The question lingered, heavier than the humiliation that already consumed me.
Ananya didn’t respond. She sat frozen on the bed, her eyes locked on the floor, as if looking anywhere else would make the reality even worse. Her silence hung in the air, heavy and screaming louder than any words could.
Today, you’ll finally learn what it means to be truly satisfied," Anand said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
Without warning, he grabbed my arm and yanked me closer. "Go ahead, compare us," he said with a smirk, his grip firm as he positioned me beside him. There we stood, stripped down to our underwear, every detail of my humiliation laid bare in stark contrast. Anand stood tall, radiating confidence, his muscles flexing as though he knew he owned the room. My shoulders slumped instinctively, and when Ananya’s eyes flicked between us, it felt like a spotlight on every inch of my inadequacy. My eyes, despite my effort to avoid it, flicked toward the massive bulge in his crotch. The comparison was devastating, and I felt myself shrink even further under the weight of my inadequacy.
Anand gestured for Ananya to stand. She rose slowly, her movements hesitant, the white babydoll I had chosen for her clinging to her frame. My eyes flicked between the delicate mangalsutra resting against her chest and the white babydoll clinging to her frame. Both were supposed to mean something—symbols of love, intimacy, and trust. But here, they felt stripped of their meaning, reduced to props in a twisted spectacle.
The mangalsutra, once a promise I’d sworn to uphold, now dangled as a silent witness to my failure. The babydoll, meant for a moment of tenderness, now felt like a cruel costume, its softness contrasting painfully with the sharp edges of the humiliation cutting into us both. Together, they told a story I couldn’t bear to accept—a story of everything we had lost.
"What do you think, Ananya?" he asked, his tone almost playful, but laced with a taunting edge.
Her eyes flicked back and forth between us, each glance feeling like a verdict I wasn’t ready to hear. Her gaze cut through me, as if each glance stripped away another layer of my pride. Did she really see me like this now—small, weak, a shadow of the man I thought I was? I told myself she didn’t want to be here any more than I did, but the flicker of something—curiosity, maybe even reluctant interest—when she looked at him felt like a dagger. Was it just his confidence? His sheer presence? Or was I fooling myself into thinking there was still anything left between us worth saving?
Her body trembled as if every movement was a battle between reluctance and inevitability, her gaze heavy with unspoken emotions I couldn’t decode. Anand stood there as the undeniable Alpha, exuding power and dominance, while I felt reduced to nothing more than the defeated 'beta,' powerless in the shadow he cast.
Anand shifted his attention to Manavi, giving her a slight nod., Manavi leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she watched the scene with a glint of amusement in her eyes. She seemed to drink in every detail, her smirk widening when Ketan hesitated under Anand’s towering presence. "Quite the contrast, isn’t it?" she murmured, her words cutting through the tense silence as she shifted her gaze to Ananya.
Manavi’s movements unhurried and almost teasing as she approached me. Her eyes met mine briefly, a glimmer of mischief in them, before she reached for my waistband. With a quick, practiced motion, she pulled my underwear down to the floor. Her soft giggle broke the tense silence, a sound that felt almost out of place—light and playful, yet dripping with mockery. "I mean, what’s the point of these, anyway?" she teased, flicking the waistband of Ketan’s underwear before pulling them down with a practiced ease. "Might as well save you the trouble of pretending."
"Now, Ananya," Anand said, his voice firm and commanding, as he turned his attention to her. She hesitated, her body tense, but the weight of the moment seemed to push her forward. With trembling hands, she reached for his waistband, her fingers brushing against the fabric as if reluctant to continue. After a shaky breath, she finally pulled his boxers down, revealing his intimidating physique.I wanted to look away, but my eyes refused to cooperate.
The sight of her hands shaking as they worked against the waistband—it was a moment burned into my memory, one I knew I’d never escape. Was she thinking of me at all as she stood there? Did she feel guilty, or was that just wishful thinking? I could tell myself it was all Anand’s coercion, that she had no choice, but the truth was that I didn’t know. And not knowing—that was the worst part. It gnawed at me, hollowing me out from the inside. Even without an erection, his size was undeniable—long, thick, and veined, a clear and devastating contrast to me. The comparison stung, each detail driving a fresh nail into my already shattered dignity.
As Anand’s boxers dropped to the floor, the room seemed to close in on us. The air felt heavier, the tension almost suffocating. Ananya’s eyes widened just a fraction, her expression a mixture of awe and apprehension as she glanced up at Anand. He met her gaze with a slow, approving nod, his confidence unshakable. The scene couldn’t have been clearer—Anand stood as the undisputed Alpha, towering in dominance, while I remained in the background, painfully aware of my humiliation and irrelevance in that moment.
Anand’s cock began to swell, twitching as blood rushed through it, growing thicker and harder with each passing moment. Ananya’s eyes stayed on it, her expression caught between reluctance and a forced curiosity she couldn’t hide. "Meet Stallion," Anand said with a smug whisper, his voice dripping with pride. "As you can see, he’s already eager to make your acquaintance."
The air was thick with the scent of Anand’s musk, a bold, overpowering reminder of his presence. Ananya took a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling herself against what was to come. As she exhaled, her lips parted slightly, trembling with nervous anticipation. Anand stepped closer, the tip of his cock brushing against her lips. She froze, hesitation written all over her face.
Ananya’s lips hovered over his shaft, the hesitation in her movements clear as day. She lingered, her breath shallow, as though the mere proximity to him was too much to bear. I wanted to scream, to pull her away, but all I could do was stand there, watching as her trembling lips finally brushed against him. My stomach twisted violently, and a wave of nausea swept over me as she continued, her every action a brutal reminder of my helplessness.
With steady insistence, he pressed forward, leaving her no choice but to part her lips. The moment of contact made her body tense, her shoulders drawing up as if to shield herself. She leaned back instinctively, her discomfort plain, her jaw stretching to accommodate him. Anand’s hands gently cupped the back of her head, guiding her forward, though she resisted, barely taking in the tip. Her eyes darted up, glistening with unease, her struggle to manage his size painfully evident.
From the corner of the room, Manavi observed the scene with a smirk, her expression an infuriating mix of amusement and control. "Relax, Ananya," she said softly, her tone almost soothing but with an edge of condescension. "It’s better if you just... go with it. You might even enjoy yourself." Her words hung in the air, adding to the suffocating tension.
Ananya steadied herself, her trembling hand resting on Anand’s thigh while the other hovered uncertainty by her side. Every move she made was hesitant, guided more by Anand’s firm grip than any willingness of her own.
After a few tense moments, Anand eased back, giving Ananya a brief reprieve as he stood tall, his presence commanding. "And now," he said with a smirk, his tone heavy with mockery, "let’s give her a real comparison." Ananya’s eyes dropped reluctantly, her gaze settling on his balls, which hung prominently, their size a stark reminder of the difference between us. Anand’s voice softened slightly, but his words carried undeniable authority. "Go on," he instructed, "show them some appreciation."
Ananya leaned forward with visible hesitation, her movements painfully slow and uncertain. Her trembling lips brushed against the base of his shaft, placing a hesitant kiss before trailing upward with small, tentative licks. She paused, her discomfort evident in every motion, before moving hesitantly down to his balls. She briefly took one into her mouth, her actions mechanical, devoid of any enthusiasm. The tension in her body was unmistakable, every inch of her showing how much she wanted to be anywhere but here.
Anand released his grip, letting his cock rest heavily across Ananya’s face. A few drops of precum smeared against her forehead, an unintentional mark that felt like a final declaration of his control. The act wasn’t just physical—it was a symbol of his dominance, leaving no doubt about the power he held in that moment.
"Now, let’s check the results," Anand said with a smirk, pulling Ananya to her feet. His eyes locked onto hers, unyielding, as if daring her to look away. Slowly, he placed his hand on her stomach, his fingers teasing the edge of her panties before slipping beneath them. Ananya gasped sharply, her entire body stiffening at his touch. Her eyes widened, filled with a mix of fear and silent pleading—not directed at Anand but past him, as though searching for a way out or even hoping I might intervene.
"I think the results speak for themselves," Anand said smugly, pulling his hand back. His middle and ring fingers glistened, coated with Ananya’s wetness all the way to the second knuckle. Holding them up deliberately, he brought them to his mouth, tasting her with an exaggerated savor, his smirk widening in satisfaction. The blatant display of her arousal hit me like a gut punch—a mix of shock, humiliation, and, to my shame, a faint stir of arousal I couldn’t fully suppress.
Anand took his time, savoring the taste with a smirk that felt like it was aimed straight at me. As I watched, a rush of memories hit me—simpler, happier times with Ananya, when our love felt pure and untouched, before everything had grown so distant. The stark contrast between those tender moments and the humiliation unfolding now was almost too much to bear. It burned, stirring a storm of jealousy, anger, and an overwhelming sense of defeat that left me feeling smaller than ever.
"Mmmmmm," Anand hummed, savoring the taste like it was a victory. "Now, let me show you what it’s like to be with a real man," he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. With deliberate movements, he reached for Ananya’s babydoll, sliding the straps off her shoulders as he began to undress her. This was it—the line we could never return from, the moment everything I thought I knew about us shattered.
As he slid the straps of her babydoll off her shoulders, I caught a fleeting glimpse of her mangalsutra, the delicate black beads swinging against her chest. It should have been a shield, a reminder of the bond we shared. Instead, it dangled there like a silent mockery of everything I had failed to protect."
Every fiber of my being screamed at me to act, to do something, anything to put an end to this nightmare. But my legs felt like lead, my voice caught somewhere in my throat. I wasn’t just frozen—I was breaking, piece by piece, under the weight of my own failure. I had always believed that, when it came down to it, I would protect her. That I’d be the man she needed. But here I was, watching my so-called best friend take her from me, and all I could do was stand there and let it happen.
As Anand walked away, I trailed behind him hesitantly, my legs heavy, my vision blurred with tears. At the doorway, Manavi stood quietly, her expression calm, almost indifferent. My mind screamed at me to act, to pull Ananya away, but my body refused, weighted by fear and humiliation.
Without hesitation, Anand reached for Ananya’s hand. Her face was frozen in fear, her lips parted as if to speak but no words came. She let him pull her along like a puppet, her silence louder than any scream.
Anand turned and gave me a cold, piercing stare before disappearing into his bedroom with her. Ananya looked back at me, her eyes locked onto mine, desperate and pleading, and it hit me like a blow to the chest. I should have done something, should have said something, but what could I even do? Every time I tried to imagine stepping in, Anand’s cold, mocking stare froze me in place. Would he hurt her if I resisted? Or would he just laugh as he brushed me aside like I was nothing? Maybe I was nothing—not to him, not at this moment. The thought churned in my gut like poison, leaving me to stand there, useless and ashamed, while Ananya silently begged for a hero I couldn’t be..
Manavi followed closely, her steps slow and deliberate, as though savoring the weight of what was happening. She paused briefly and walked towards me, leaning in close enough for her perfume to linger in the air between us. "You don’t want to miss this," she whispered, her voice soft but dripping with mockery, before continuing into the bedroom.
I hurriedly pulled my boxers back on, though it felt pointless. My legs moved on their own as I ended up just outside Anand’s bedroom door, unable to stay away. Anand stood at the entrance, his stance commanding, like a gatekeeper to what came next. Inside, Ananya sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped, her whole body radiating helplessness. Manavi lingered nearby, leaning casually against the wall, her presence a quiet but pointed reminder of how twisted this situation had become.
As I stood frozen outside the door, my mind raced with questions I couldn’t answer. What had Manavi said to Ananya during all this? Had she tried to comfort her, or was she just as consumed by Anand’s dominance as the rest of us? The possibilities clawed at me, each one worse than the last, and the thought of Manavi leading Ananya deeper into this nightmare left a bitter taste in my mouth. Fear, confusion, and now betrayal churned in my gut, tying me up in knots.
The tension in the room was suffocating, the air so heavy it felt like it could crush me. Every unspoken fear hung there, filling the silence with an unbearable weight. I stood frozen, unable to move, trapped by my own emotions. My chest tightened as I watched the door slowly swing shut, shutting us in—sealing me inside this nightmare with no way to escape.
His smirk oozed confidence, like he already knew how this twisted play would unfold. 'So, you’ve only ever been with your loser husband?' he sneered at Ananya, his words sharp and mocking. My stomach twisted as his words cut deeper than I expected, but even the thought of fighting back felt pathetic—he was right, and I hated him for it."You saw how I made him squeal like a little bitch. What do you think of that?"
The words stung like a whip. My chest tightened as shame coursed through me, mingling with a simmering anger I couldn’t seem to act on. I wanted to fight back, to tell him to shut his filthy mouth, but what would that achieve? He had already stripped me of every shred of dignity, and deep down, I hated myself for letting him. But was it better to stay silent, to avoid making things worse for Ananya? Or was I just using that as an excuse to mask my own cowardice? The question lingered, heavier than the humiliation that already consumed me.
Ananya didn’t respond. She sat frozen on the bed, her eyes locked on the floor, as if looking anywhere else would make the reality even worse. Her silence hung in the air, heavy and screaming louder than any words could.
Today, you’ll finally learn what it means to be truly satisfied," Anand said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
Without warning, he grabbed my arm and yanked me closer. "Go ahead, compare us," he said with a smirk, his grip firm as he positioned me beside him. There we stood, stripped down to our underwear, every detail of my humiliation laid bare in stark contrast. Anand stood tall, radiating confidence, his muscles flexing as though he knew he owned the room. My shoulders slumped instinctively, and when Ananya’s eyes flicked between us, it felt like a spotlight on every inch of my inadequacy. My eyes, despite my effort to avoid it, flicked toward the massive bulge in his crotch. The comparison was devastating, and I felt myself shrink even further under the weight of my inadequacy.
Anand gestured for Ananya to stand. She rose slowly, her movements hesitant, the white babydoll I had chosen for her clinging to her frame. My eyes flicked between the delicate mangalsutra resting against her chest and the white babydoll clinging to her frame. Both were supposed to mean something—symbols of love, intimacy, and trust. But here, they felt stripped of their meaning, reduced to props in a twisted spectacle.
The mangalsutra, once a promise I’d sworn to uphold, now dangled as a silent witness to my failure. The babydoll, meant for a moment of tenderness, now felt like a cruel costume, its softness contrasting painfully with the sharp edges of the humiliation cutting into us both. Together, they told a story I couldn’t bear to accept—a story of everything we had lost.
"What do you think, Ananya?" he asked, his tone almost playful, but laced with a taunting edge.
Her eyes flicked back and forth between us, each glance feeling like a verdict I wasn’t ready to hear. Her gaze cut through me, as if each glance stripped away another layer of my pride. Did she really see me like this now—small, weak, a shadow of the man I thought I was? I told myself she didn’t want to be here any more than I did, but the flicker of something—curiosity, maybe even reluctant interest—when she looked at him felt like a dagger. Was it just his confidence? His sheer presence? Or was I fooling myself into thinking there was still anything left between us worth saving?
Her body trembled as if every movement was a battle between reluctance and inevitability, her gaze heavy with unspoken emotions I couldn’t decode. Anand stood there as the undeniable Alpha, exuding power and dominance, while I felt reduced to nothing more than the defeated 'beta,' powerless in the shadow he cast.
Anand shifted his attention to Manavi, giving her a slight nod., Manavi leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she watched the scene with a glint of amusement in her eyes. She seemed to drink in every detail, her smirk widening when Ketan hesitated under Anand’s towering presence. "Quite the contrast, isn’t it?" she murmured, her words cutting through the tense silence as she shifted her gaze to Ananya.
Manavi’s movements unhurried and almost teasing as she approached me. Her eyes met mine briefly, a glimmer of mischief in them, before she reached for my waistband. With a quick, practiced motion, she pulled my underwear down to the floor. Her soft giggle broke the tense silence, a sound that felt almost out of place—light and playful, yet dripping with mockery. "I mean, what’s the point of these, anyway?" she teased, flicking the waistband of Ketan’s underwear before pulling them down with a practiced ease. "Might as well save you the trouble of pretending."
"Now, Ananya," Anand said, his voice firm and commanding, as he turned his attention to her. She hesitated, her body tense, but the weight of the moment seemed to push her forward. With trembling hands, she reached for his waistband, her fingers brushing against the fabric as if reluctant to continue. After a shaky breath, she finally pulled his boxers down, revealing his intimidating physique.I wanted to look away, but my eyes refused to cooperate.
The sight of her hands shaking as they worked against the waistband—it was a moment burned into my memory, one I knew I’d never escape. Was she thinking of me at all as she stood there? Did she feel guilty, or was that just wishful thinking? I could tell myself it was all Anand’s coercion, that she had no choice, but the truth was that I didn’t know. And not knowing—that was the worst part. It gnawed at me, hollowing me out from the inside. Even without an erection, his size was undeniable—long, thick, and veined, a clear and devastating contrast to me. The comparison stung, each detail driving a fresh nail into my already shattered dignity.
As Anand’s boxers dropped to the floor, the room seemed to close in on us. The air felt heavier, the tension almost suffocating. Ananya’s eyes widened just a fraction, her expression a mixture of awe and apprehension as she glanced up at Anand. He met her gaze with a slow, approving nod, his confidence unshakable. The scene couldn’t have been clearer—Anand stood as the undisputed Alpha, towering in dominance, while I remained in the background, painfully aware of my humiliation and irrelevance in that moment.
Anand’s cock began to swell, twitching as blood rushed through it, growing thicker and harder with each passing moment. Ananya’s eyes stayed on it, her expression caught between reluctance and a forced curiosity she couldn’t hide. "Meet Stallion," Anand said with a smug whisper, his voice dripping with pride. "As you can see, he’s already eager to make your acquaintance."
The air was thick with the scent of Anand’s musk, a bold, overpowering reminder of his presence. Ananya took a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling herself against what was to come. As she exhaled, her lips parted slightly, trembling with nervous anticipation. Anand stepped closer, the tip of his cock brushing against her lips. She froze, hesitation written all over her face.
Ananya’s lips hovered over his shaft, the hesitation in her movements clear as day. She lingered, her breath shallow, as though the mere proximity to him was too much to bear. I wanted to scream, to pull her away, but all I could do was stand there, watching as her trembling lips finally brushed against him. My stomach twisted violently, and a wave of nausea swept over me as she continued, her every action a brutal reminder of my helplessness.
With steady insistence, he pressed forward, leaving her no choice but to part her lips. The moment of contact made her body tense, her shoulders drawing up as if to shield herself. She leaned back instinctively, her discomfort plain, her jaw stretching to accommodate him. Anand’s hands gently cupped the back of her head, guiding her forward, though she resisted, barely taking in the tip. Her eyes darted up, glistening with unease, her struggle to manage his size painfully evident.
From the corner of the room, Manavi observed the scene with a smirk, her expression an infuriating mix of amusement and control. "Relax, Ananya," she said softly, her tone almost soothing but with an edge of condescension. "It’s better if you just... go with it. You might even enjoy yourself." Her words hung in the air, adding to the suffocating tension.
Ananya steadied herself, her trembling hand resting on Anand’s thigh while the other hovered uncertainty by her side. Every move she made was hesitant, guided more by Anand’s firm grip than any willingness of her own.
After a few tense moments, Anand eased back, giving Ananya a brief reprieve as he stood tall, his presence commanding. "And now," he said with a smirk, his tone heavy with mockery, "let’s give her a real comparison." Ananya’s eyes dropped reluctantly, her gaze settling on his balls, which hung prominently, their size a stark reminder of the difference between us. Anand’s voice softened slightly, but his words carried undeniable authority. "Go on," he instructed, "show them some appreciation."
Ananya leaned forward with visible hesitation, her movements painfully slow and uncertain. Her trembling lips brushed against the base of his shaft, placing a hesitant kiss before trailing upward with small, tentative licks. She paused, her discomfort evident in every motion, before moving hesitantly down to his balls. She briefly took one into her mouth, her actions mechanical, devoid of any enthusiasm. The tension in her body was unmistakable, every inch of her showing how much she wanted to be anywhere but here.
Anand released his grip, letting his cock rest heavily across Ananya’s face. A few drops of precum smeared against her forehead, an unintentional mark that felt like a final declaration of his control. The act wasn’t just physical—it was a symbol of his dominance, leaving no doubt about the power he held in that moment.
"Now, let’s check the results," Anand said with a smirk, pulling Ananya to her feet. His eyes locked onto hers, unyielding, as if daring her to look away. Slowly, he placed his hand on her stomach, his fingers teasing the edge of her panties before slipping beneath them. Ananya gasped sharply, her entire body stiffening at his touch. Her eyes widened, filled with a mix of fear and silent pleading—not directed at Anand but past him, as though searching for a way out or even hoping I might intervene.
"I think the results speak for themselves," Anand said smugly, pulling his hand back. His middle and ring fingers glistened, coated with Ananya’s wetness all the way to the second knuckle. Holding them up deliberately, he brought them to his mouth, tasting her with an exaggerated savor, his smirk widening in satisfaction. The blatant display of her arousal hit me like a gut punch—a mix of shock, humiliation, and, to my shame, a faint stir of arousal I couldn’t fully suppress.
Anand took his time, savoring the taste with a smirk that felt like it was aimed straight at me. As I watched, a rush of memories hit me—simpler, happier times with Ananya, when our love felt pure and untouched, before everything had grown so distant. The stark contrast between those tender moments and the humiliation unfolding now was almost too much to bear. It burned, stirring a storm of jealousy, anger, and an overwhelming sense of defeat that left me feeling smaller than ever.
"Mmmmmm," Anand hummed, savoring the taste like it was a victory. "Now, let me show you what it’s like to be with a real man," he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. With deliberate movements, he reached for Ananya’s babydoll, sliding the straps off her shoulders as he began to undress her. This was it—the line we could never return from, the moment everything I thought I knew about us shattered.
As he slid the straps of her babydoll off her shoulders, I caught a fleeting glimpse of her mangalsutra, the delicate black beads swinging against her chest. It should have been a shield, a reminder of the bond we shared. Instead, it dangled there like a silent mockery of everything I had failed to protect."
Every fiber of my being screamed at me to act, to do something, anything to put an end to this nightmare. But my legs felt like lead, my voice caught somewhere in my throat. I wasn’t just frozen—I was breaking, piece by piece, under the weight of my own failure. I had always believed that, when it came down to it, I would protect her. That I’d be the man she needed. But here I was, watching my so-called best friend take her from me, and all I could do was stand there and let it happen.
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